


A Life Worth Living

by soresu_master



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Babyfic, Canon-Compliant, Dad!Flynn, F/M, Flynn introspective, Mom!Eve, Non-Graphic description of birth, references to Librarian movies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soresu_master/pseuds/soresu_master
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[crossposted to fanfiction.net]</p><p>"But now, that un-normality, the...unpredictable lifestyle that they all led...that would invariably affect his child. His son, or daughter. And after thinking about it, and overthinking it - and overthinking it some more, the guilt began to set in."</p><p>Flynn witnesses the birth of his child, and reminisces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Life Worth Living

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got my Ao3 account up and running. And about time, too. I'm excited, but I'm still figuring out how this thing works. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this one anyway, if you haven't read it already. Or, y'know, if you have. I'm not picky.

 

* * *

 

 

 

_ ‘It’s how it’s always been,  
when you’re older,  
you will understand.’ _

 

Flynn Carsen had had nine-ish months to adjust to the idea of being a father. And he’d thought he was going to be okay. There had been a moment there, in the first month or two, that he’d thought maybe...well, that he’d _realised_ that the life of a Librarian wasn’t the most accommodating job, not for a couple. And certainly not for a family. It was something he’d always known, but had never thought to be relevant to him.

 

And it hadn’t been.

 

Not until Eve had shown him the positive pregnancy test that had turned his entire world upside down. Or perhaps right-side up? Flynn wasn’t sure anymore. Normal had never exactly been a part of his vocabulary -- nor had he ever particularly wished for it to be --

 

_ (maybe once, for several fractured seconds, as he could feel his heart break) _

 

But now, that un-normality, the... _unpredictable_ lifestyle that they all led...that would invariably affect his child. His son, or daughter. And after thinking about it, and overthinking it -- and overthinking it some _more_ , the guilt began to set in.

 

Of course, the guilt couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time, when Eve was clutching his hand like a vice, cursing at him for impregnating her in the first place. And if his hand wasn’t _throbbing_ in pain, if he didn’t know she’d  break a few of his bones if she squeezed any tighter, he may have spoken up. Said something particularly meaningful.

 

Instead he said something real intelligent like, “You’re doing fine, Eve, just keep at it.”

 

The death glare he received in return had been entirely expected. This time, at least, Flynn had enough foresight -- and he certainly knew her well enough -- to step back just enough before she lunged to punch him in the face. So he settled for keeping his mouth shut and instead watching, his hand completely hers for the mutilating. He’d probably have to get that looked at, he thought vaguely, and for the slightest of seconds his mind flitted back to the book on parallel dimensions he’d been reading earlier that evening --

 

But then Flynn Carsen heard something that for once, silenced his mind completely. Suddenly a million times more alert, his brown eyes left Eve’s face to find the source of the unfamiliar sound -- the cry of a baby. But no, not just any baby. _His_ baby. _His_ child. His and Eve’s. Time seemed to slow down, and he barely felt Eve’s hand go slack as it slipped from his grasp back onto the bed, as she closed her eyes.

 

“It’s a boy.”

 

He’d felt the lack of her hand belatedly, and had tilted his head back towards her, studying the beads of sweat drying on her forehead and the somewhat accomplished expression on her otherwise exhausted face. He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her head. And for the first time since hearing the newborn’s cry, Flynn felt a swell of pride, of _love_ bubbling up in his chest. Love for Eve, love for his child -- and speaking of which...

 

The doctor may have said something before that, that Flynn hadn’t heard, but for a fraction of a second he saw a frozen look of fear on Eve’s face. He supposed she deserved that. She’d been calm, for the entirety of her pregnancy -- she’d been mostly normal growing up, hadn’t she? But then, what was normal? Normal to him was just him and his mom. Normal to Eve...was never having a steady home. Moving from place to place, learning never to unpack her boxes because it would just be more effort than it was worth.

 

_ (eventually, flynn had learned his own hard lessons too)  _

 

And so maybe their child -- their son -- would never have that _normal_ life, the one talked about in all those storybooks. But he would be _loved_. And as far as Flynn could think, that was what mattered more than anything. His mother, she had been right all along. The things that made life worth living...

 

“Flynn?”

 

He was distracted from his thoughts at Eve’s weary tone, and the amused yet tired expression on her face spoke volumes. She knew him well enough, now, to know when he got stuck on a thought. Or perhaps, many at a time. She brushed a hand down his arm (at least, as far as she could reach), and Flynn took a few shaky steps forward, his own hands dragging through his permanently-mussed hair.

 

Cleaned and wrapped in a soft, white blanket, a bundle was passed carefully into his arms. And for the first time that night, Flynn’s breath was stolen from him. It seemed that the movement had jostled the infant in his arms, because as he peered into the bundle, he was met with bright blue eyes. ‘Most babies are born with blue eyes,’ Stone had told him once, and though in the back of his mind he recalled that memory, in his son’s eyes he saw Eve’s. And just in that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

 

Until the baby shifted, eyes closing, unaware of the effect he was having.

 

“Hey, Librarian?” His head shot up, comically fast, eyes wide and guilty at Eve’s gently scolding tone. “Want to hand me my son?”

 

Careful not to jostle the baby in his arms any further, he took the few steps back to the side of the bed, leaning over to place his infant son in Eve’s arms. It was only once he did that he realised his hands were shaking. He took a deep breath, relaxed

 

_ (calm down, Flynn, you got this.  _   
_really._   
_what kid wouldn’t want to grow up in a place like the library?_   
_besides, you’ve got this dad thing down.)_

 

and leaned back over to cautiously look down. Eve hadn’t spoken yet, but her fingers were lightly brushing over what seemed like every part of their son she could touch. He supposed it made sense. From the moment he’d met her, Eve was a _see-it-to-believe-it_ type of girl. And seeing, touching, _holding_... Despite giving her a Mother’s Day card in May and the obvious pregnancy bump, Flynn knew that Eve hadn’t considered herself a _mother_ until now.

 

Almost of its own accord, his hand drifted to the soft tufts of light-coloured hair on the infant’s head, stroking it gently, in a motion he hoped was soothing.

Whether it was for his son or for himself, Flynn wasn’t entirely sure.

 

“He’s beautiful,” he finally heard Eve whisper, and for the first time he saw tears pooling in her eyes. His lips curved up into a soft smile as he waited -- was she going to say something else? But she didn’t, and he only shifted closer.

 

And though he searched for something to say, something from all the many texts he’d read...it seemed like there was absolutely nothing to describe this moment. “Yeah,” Flynn finally told her. His gaze moved from the baby to the woman laying in the bed, and directed his smile at her instead, if only for a moment. Eve almost laughed, and using one hand, tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him in for a kiss. It seemed to be one of her favourite things -- that even after all these years, she could still leave him dazed.

 

When he pulled away, he was met with a tired grin, yet a brighter smile than he’d ever seen on Eve’s face. Potentially even a brighter smile than he’d ever seen...on _anyone_. And it was more beautiful than the Banteay Chhmar, more stunning than the view from the Statue of Liberty, just off a freshly-cleared storm.

 

“I know we -- never...exactly decided on a, um -- name, but, uh --” And Eve just smiled at him again, effectively cutting off what could’ve become an unending stream of stammering and mumblings about arguments that resulted in him sleeping back at the Library and a murmur about how Excalibur wasn’t really _that bad_ of a name for their would-be child.

 

“Flynn,” she murmured, pressing a finger to her lips. “Sshhh.” Eve looked adoringly down at the child in her arms, and Flynn couldn’t help wondering what she was thinking. They hadn’t come to a conclusion about a name, in the end -- not because they disliked everything thrown their way, but because they’d agreed to wait and see. See what name _suited_ their child. Almost as if they were letting the baby himself pick it out.

 

But to Flynn, only one name popped into his head. He looked back up at Eve, to see what conclusion she had come to. She only smiled yet again, nodding her head a little. Conceding the battle. _He had won._ Her fingers brushed along the soft hair on the baby’s head distractedly as she looked back towards Flynn.

“He does look like a Cal,” she finally admitted. Then she narrowed her eyebrows at him, pointing with a finger. “One condition. We are _not_ calling him Excalibur. Like, _ever_.”

 

With a grin threatening to break through, Flynn bit back a laugh. “I think I can deal with that.”

 

And hours later, after the birth certificate had been signed and dated, and with Eve sleeping off the exhaustion of the last twelve hours and the exertion of giving birth...Flynn cradled the now happily dozing Cal Carsen in his arms, leaning down only to press his lips to his infant son’s tiny forehead.

 

Shifting his position to free up a hand, he swallowed, exhaling slowly. “You just have to remember, Cal,” he murmured, as he could see those striking blue eyes open to regard him. And then he murmured the words that had effectively changed his life -- if not exactly in the way his mother had wanted. “The things...that make life worth living, can’t be thought _here_.” He brushed his fingertips lightly across the baby’s temple, before making their way down to touch his chest. And suddenly, with absolute certainty, Flynn Carsen knew that he was going to be just fine. “They must be felt, _here_.”


End file.
